


if I could go and turn back time

by emilia_kaisa



Series: blunt challenge [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Break Up, but also hope!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilia_kaisa/pseuds/emilia_kaisa
Summary: The distance between Osaka and Nagoya is 178 kilometres and it takes almost two hours to travel, if taking the quickest route and by some miracle avoiding peak afternoon traffic.
Relationships: Keiji Tanaka/Shoma Uno
Series: blunt challenge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138568
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	if I could go and turn back time

**Author's Note:**

> This is a first fic of a challenge I'm doing with the most amazing Junliet, based on songs by the king of feels, James Blunt.  
> Song: The Only One

_The distance between Osaka and Nagoya is 178 kilometres and it takes almost two hours to travel, if taking the quickest route and by some miracle avoiding peak afternoon traffic. That would be an option if Shoma had a car, or a driving license at least, but he doesn't and he's definitely not going to ask anyone for the ride._

_So almost every Friday Shoma packs his small travel bag and makes his way to the Nagoya Station, hopping into the closest train to Osaka he can catch. That journey takes just under one hour, so quick there's no point in trying to nap. And usually he's feeling too jittery to attempt sleep anyway, even though he's covering that brilliantly, not showing even an ounce of emotion. At that point of the week Shoma usually feels quite tired, a bit worn out with days of intense training, and yet his heart is pounding restlessly at the mere thought of what's coming closer and closer with every second and every kilometer the train makes through the fields and cities of his homeland._

_He tries not to rush as the train stops at the station in Osaka, even though everything inside him urges him to get to the platform as fast as possible. But he absolutely hates squeezing through the crowd, in a tangle of limbs and people seeming to hurry somewhere even more than him._

_So he just wraps his fingers around the handle of his bag, waiting patiently at the end of the line until he's finally able to leave the train, stepping down to the platform, the air dry and dusty and swilrling in his nose, making him feel like he's going to sneeze._

_But then he hears a familiar chuckle, quiet and yet audible in the crowded space, and Shoma smiles, lifting his head and looking at the only person he can see right now._

"Shoma?"

Shoma jerks away, blinking rapidly, and for a second he has no idea where he is and who's touching his arm, and then it catches up to him and he relaxes, leaning back against the headrast again and sighing into his mask.

"We'll be landing soon." Stephane says gently, his eyes twinkling "You should put the seatbelt on."

Shoma does that, happy that his coach can't see how he's blushing with embarassment. He's tired and sleepy, but also excited, knowing that a competition is appraching, that he will feel the thrill of performing in front of a crowd. He's not in his top shape, but he believes in himself, and he thinks he's capable ofdoing good.

And then, of course, his thoughts run to him.

And of couse his throat itches and clenches, and he feels an urge to cough but doesn't want to startle anyone. So he just turns his gaze to the window and watches the world being painted with gold and yellow of the setting sun, so bright and harsh Shoma's eyes fill with tears. Which is stupid and unnecesarry, so he looks away, somehow managing to avoid Stephane's eyes as well.

It's not a big deal. A couple of months passed and they're both adults, and it's going to be okay. Hell, with all that's happening, they might not even have an opportunity to talk.

It would be better that way, or at least that's what Shoma is telling himself, what he has been teling himself since he left Japan on that misty September morning. Now it's early December afternoon, and the ground burns orange, sparks dancing on the thick layer of snow.

It's calming and beautiful. And yet for some reason, it doesn't feel like coming home.

* * *

For the first couple of days it's going good. They all stay in their lines, follow the rules, hide, but of course Yuzuru notices, and corners Shoma in one of the quiet corridors backstage.

"Okay, what's going on?"

"Hi to you too, Yuzu." Shoma deadpans and Yuzuru huffs, rolling his eyes with annoyance.

"You're so sweet, hi. Now please explain why you and Keji are avoiding each other like a plague?"

"That's a great choice of words." Shoma says flatly and Yuzuru seems to be flustered for a moment before letting out another annoyed huff.

"Okay, sorry, sorry. But for real-" he hesitates for a moment, and Shoma can see genuine concern in his eyes "You were always attached by a hip, and now you barely look at each other. I just... worry. Did something happen?"

For one crazy secont, Shoma actually considers telling Yuzuru, finally coming clean, finally letting someone beside his brother know. His deepest secret, that he has been keeping, that they have been keeping for so long. But then fear grips his throat tightly and he can't, and he feels his veins filling with bitterness, and he can't do that. What he needs is to make Yuzuru leave him alone, and to do so Shoma knows he has to go back to how we acted some months before, even thoush it was someone else standing in front of him.

"You know, distance is a bitch."

He lets venom slip to his voice, and he hates himself for what he's going to say next.

"I bet you understand, with how things are going between you and Javi now that he's retired."

Even though half of his face is covered, Shoma can tell that Yuzuru pales, his eyelids fluttering rapidly. And then he takes a step back and throws Shoma a look carrying so much hurt and contempt Shoma can actually feel it, like a punch straight to his gut.

"Fuck you." Yuzuru says flatly before walking away, his back a straight line, and he doesn't look back even once.

Not like Shoma wants it.

Not like he deserves it.

* * *

Shoma never expected _Dancing on my own_ to become so big, to turn out so important.

It was almost ironic at first, when the beginning of the 2019/2020 season found him coachless and a mess, and Shoma still blesses Stephane for stepping in so easily, like an angel sent from heaven, an answer to Shoma's silent prayers.

Under his wings, skating started to feel right again, and Shoma found previously unseen comfrort in this program, a symbol of change, of growing, moving on.

And then, it's meaning changed yet again.

Shoma never meant for it to happen that way.

He never really thought about the future, taking his life day by day, week by week, his life deticated to schedules, training, sleep, train timetables. What he always knew was that it felt right, that it was one of the most important aspects of his life.

And then he just decided to end it.

Because he was tired. Because he was scared. Because it seemed easier to cut it clean than to go through them slowly falling apart, something Shoma didn't think he would be able to handle. He couldn't do that, he couldn't allow to be torn apart piece by piece by time and distance, and it felt like the right thing to do, like saving both of them from inveitable heartbreak.

He was wrong, he knows it now. Because it didn't hurt any less, and it hurts still as Shoma is accepting his silver medal, and yet his eyes are skimming through the crowd behind the boards, his heart longing to see that familiar silhouette. But he doesn't, and his whole body aches with something more than simple exhaustion.

It takes long to go through all the media, but he doesn't mind. It's not like he has somewhere to hurry to or someone to meet, and at least when he finally makes it into the locker room it's only Yuzuru there, howering over his bag.

He has been nothing but nice to Shoma desipte his little shameful outburts, and Shoma swallows hard, feeling ashamed, before he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth.

"Congrats on the win. And, uh... I'm sorry. For what I said."

Yuzuru freezes for a moment and then turns around, straightening up and looking at Shoma with a gentle smile.

"Yeah, you were an ass. But I get it. And you were kinda right."

"Oh.'' A quiet mumble is all Shoma can get out, and Yuzuru shurgs, trying to act nonchalant but Shoma isn't fooled by that. Yuzuru might have a set of great media faces, but Shoma knows them all, and he bits on his lower lip now, knowing that Yuzuru doesn't need pity or words of compassion.

"Well, surpressed feelings are a bitch." Yuzuru sighs, bending now to grab his bag and put the strap over his shoulder "See you later?"

"Yeah." Shoma sighs before heavily gathering his stuff and heading to the showers.

He spends much more time than he usually does at home, but it's not his bill to pay, in the end. He puts on his comfortable clothes and towels his hair for a few minutes, not wanting to go outside with a wet head.

He wonders if Stephane will be annoyed at him for lagging, but then he walks back into the locker room and he almost drops all his stuff at the sigh of someone else sitting on a bench in an otherwise empty room.

"Keiji." Shoma croaks, his voice rough and ugly, and his heart is going crazy, his heartbeat fast and painful.

Keiji doesn't move, just looks at him, and there's actually a hint of a smile on his lips, gentle and... kind, and not a painful grimace Shoma has been afraid of seeing again.

"Yuzu told me I forgot something in the locker room." Keiji says, cocking his head to the side a little "And when I came in I heard you singing in the shower, and I got what he meant."

"Jerk." Shoma mutters, able to feel a sting of annoyance even when his chest is being crushed with so many different emotions.

"Our favourite one." Keiji says lightly and Shoma can't prevent a chuckle from escaping his lips, and he immediately drops his gaze, cheeks flaming with embarassment.

He has no idea how to act, what to do, so he only stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, stuck in between wanting to run away and not being able to move, and all his senses scream when he hears, when he feels Keiji getting up and coming closer, so close Shoma can see him in his eyesight even though his gaze is still glued to the floor.

"How's Switzerland treating you?"

Keiji's tone is so casual, like nothing happened between them, like they are texting or something, like everything was easy and nice. But it's not, or maybe it shouldn't be, and Shoma looks up before he can think of it, his eyes meeting Keiji's.

“Good.” he says, and then he surprises even himself as the next words leave his mouth “I miss you. I’m sorry.”

He kind of wants to die from embarassment and all other things crushing him the moment he speaks, but he’s like rooted to the spot, and he watches with horror how Keiji’s smile falters, like he didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t expact that after how Shoma acted last time they had seen each other.

But he’s still Shoma’s only one, even if he doesn’t know it, even if Shoma is only now realizing it. And it’s way too much to handle, so Shoma closes his eyes and hopes Keiji will take mercy on both of them and leave; but instead he feels two fingers tilting his head up and Shoma’s eyes snap open, shock coiling inside him and raising in his throat, and his heart goes crazy when he sees that Keiji is smiling, different than before, gentler, fonder, like he used to before Shoma messed everything up.

“I miss you too.” he says quietly, his fingers tracing up Shoma’s cheek and then brushing his bangs away, his touch making Shoma’s skin tingle.

No one ever made Shoma feel like that before. And he realizes that maybe there’s still a chance to fix what he was sure he had broken, because now, with Keiji touching his face so gently, he doesn’t think he would be able to walk away.

So he takes Keiji’s hand in his and presses it against his heart, unable to speak, filled with fluttering, desperate hope. 

“Do you want to catch up later?” Keiji asks and Shoma nods instantly, finally able to find his breath again.

Keiji smiles, and takes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
